


Cool Water

by wednesday



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-27 18:44:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20765156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wednesday/pseuds/wednesday
Summary: Alistair has a bad day.





	Cool Water

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aurlana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurlana/gifts).

Sometimes Alistair wishes he were better at lying. Maybe it wouldn’t help much, though, since he now feels like he misses the meaning of half the things the others joke about. More than half, probably. Him attempting to pretend some kind of experience with women would likely have led to even more teasing.

As it stands, he’s long past his threshold for embarrassment, so he retreats into the woods with a mumbled excuse.

A couple of minutes of walking take him to a stream that widens into a decently sized pool. With nothing better to do Alistair decides to wash up. Never know when he’ll get the chance again. Never, if things go badly in the Deep Roads.

Distracted as he is, he doesn’t notice anyone approaching.

“Your shoulders are even more impressive than I imagined,” says Zevran in lieu of a greeting.

Alistair does not jump in surprise, but he comes close. He whirls around and finds Zevran only a few paces away. Zevran is, true to his word, gazing admiringly at Alistair’s shoulders. Despite knowing it’s a jest, Alistair’s cheeks, barely cooled off from the earlier teasing, heat up again.

“What are you doing here?” Alistair asks, his voice harsher than he means it to be, but truly, he’s not in the mood to hear the same jokes from Zevran as well.

Zevran looks up, finally, and Alistair crosses his arms over his naked chest, shirt still in hand.

“You left so hastily that you forgot your towel,” Zevran throws what does look like a towel on the large stone Alistair’s been piling his armor on. Alistair isn’t even sure what excuse he gave when fleeing the camp; it’s just as likely he mumbled something about the stream as anything else. He almost feels bad about being so short with Zevran, but then as always, Zevran has more to add. “Though I confess, I wish I’d been less swift about fetching it – I might have arrived to an even more breathtaking sight.”

Zevran’s eyes trail down Alistair’s still clothed legs, and there’s not much to misunderstand here. Alistair feels the flush on his face brighten, and the warmth in his chest isn’t all unpleasant. Still, somehow he’d been foolish enough to trust Zevran wouldn’t join in on the teasing.

“I’m not in the mood for– for this!” The harshness is entirely intentional this time. Alistair hopes he doesn’t sound at all hurt, because he _is_ the tiniest bit hurt.

“As you say, my friend,” Zevran says and rises his hands in surrender. He takes a step back and his expression turns mild. Once again, Alistair feels like an ass for snapping at him.

“Well. Good. I’ll, um...”

He lets his shirt fall onto the pile of armor and suddenly it feels awkward to just take his pants off, while Zevran is right there, still looking at him.

“I shall join you, I think, unless you wish for me to leave?”

“Ah, yes?” Alistair doesn’t know what he’s saying yes to, really, but Zevran clearly takes it to mean he’s welcome to stay. He nods with a smile and turns to another large stone and starts unlacing his own armor.

While Zevran is facing away, Alistair pulls off his own boots and the rest of his clothes swiftly and gets into the water. It’s cool, but not unbearable, and it does a good job at cooling off Alistair’s still flushed face.

Zevran must not feel the same awkwardness as Alistair, because he takes his time undressing. Alistair doesn’t mean to look, but his eyes keep straying beck to Zevran’s increasingly bare form. The black designs continue down Zevran’s back and curve around his side. For a guilty moment or two Alistair imagines touching them, and–

He dives underwater to rinse the dust out out of his hair and cool off. It only takes a minute, but when he resurfaces, Zevran is already in the water as well. Alistair does not feel any disappointment at having missed the sight, not at all. Only maybe he’s a little curious about where else those tattoos go on Zevran’s skin.

Alistair shakes the water and the distracting thoughts off.

“Sorry about snapping at you, I–”

“Not at all, my friend, you had the right of it,” Zevran waves the apology away easily. “And it is no fault of yours that you have such bad taste. I take no offense.”

“Right. Wait, no. What?” Alistair is considerably confused by the turn of the conversation. It doesn’t _feel_ like another joke, but he has no idea what Zevran is on about.

“Very few people find me not to their taste, but it does happen from time to time,” Zevran explains and only confuses Alistair further. “It is a pity that you are among them, but such is life.” Zevran sighs and starts washing the signs of the last few days of travelling off his arms.

Alistair thinks back on the very short conversation they had before he put a stop to it. Zevran ogling his shoulders, Zevran joking about Alistair being naked, what could he possibly mean by–

Oh.

But that’s not what – Alistair feels like he’s missed most of the conversation once again. Surely Zevran isn’t saying he was… serious?

“Are you, um. I thought. Are you making fun of me?” It’s not what he means to say, but he can’t help himself. He’s always a little bit suspicious that whatever Zevran says is another attempt at a joke.

It doesn’t seem like the case this time – Zevran is looking at Alistair again, a faint frown on his face, finally sharing some of Alistair’s confusion. “Of your bad taste in lovers? No. I am charming. Anyone not at all moved by my handsomeness must have terrible taste.”

Zevran’s voice is still light and careless, like a different kind of joke, but the mood has shifted to something not quite as placid as before.

It’s, well, Alistair almost chokes on air at the word ‘lovers’. That’s something he was apparently being offered before, but now that he knows he has already refused? He should… Zevran’s unbothered approach is good, Alistair should also dismiss this; it’s not like he wants to be anyone’s lover. Definitely not Zevran’s.

Alistair’s heart keeps beating so fast it feels like it might jump out of his chest. He’s not unbothered.

The water slows him down as he steps closer to Zevran, but not enough to extinguish his temporary courage. He stops a single pace from Zevran, who looks very slightly concerned at Alistair’s strangeness.

“I didn’t mean to, I mean– –” Alistair makes a wordless noise of frustration at the way he can’t find the right words. Then he throws all caution and maybe sanity as well to the wind and closes that last step between them and kisses Zevran.

By the time the kiss ends, Zevran’s heart is beating as fast as Alistair’s.


End file.
